Following Past Steps
by Rev Leidu
Summary: [Contains Cartoon and Movie elements; rated R for swearing in later chapters] My name is John. You don't know me. You're probably even wondering what I'm doing writing this, but let me just say four words and you will understand why I am writing this...
1. The Beginning

Okay, I wrote this fic the day after I watched the Spider-man movie, so if it's not exactly correct with information, that's only because it's been so long since I've heard about the comics or seen the cartoon series. I hope this is acceptable and I also hope you brought tissues. You're going to need them.   
  
I don't own anything in this story, except Electra. You have to ask to use her.   
  
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_Following Past Steps  
  
Chapter One_  
  


  
  
  
Hi, my name is John. You don't know me. You're probably even wondering what I'm doing writing this, but let me just say four words and you will understand why I am writing this. Spider-man was my father. That's right and you don't have to rub your eyes, you've read that sentence correctly. Spider-man--or shall we say Peter Parker--was my father.   
  
Please note the _was_.  
  
The thing is, I didn't know my dad (Peter Parker) was Spirder-man until a few years after he was killed. That's right, Spidey fans, Peter Parker was killed. By whom, you ask? Well, first I would have to start at the beginning of the whole thing...  
  
  
  
  
It was my junior year in high school and I had basically everything going for me. Everything was simple then. Go to school, do work, some tests, come home, eat diner, go to bed, repeat. The downside? Well, everyone has a downside to everything going good for them. Mine just happened to be--  
  
"Johnathon Daniel Parker!" A voice rang in anger from down the hall. I looked behind me and sure enough she was there.   
  
--Melissa Louise Parker. My little sister.  
  
She quickly ran after me as I started running down the high school halls, managing to barely dodge the people who were on their way out of the building for the day. Of course, I was quick enough at dodging, I bumped into several people, knocking them and myself over. I groaned, knowing she had caught up to me, and sat up just as my red-headed sister walked up calmly.  
  
The people I had ran into growled curses at me and whatnot, but I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy thinking about how I was so dead meat. She gave me an icy look and put her hands on her hips just like Mom would do whenever I would do something wrong.  
  
It was actually funny to see. Here I was, two years older than her, and well over five inches taller and she was the one that acted like the older and more mature one...which she probably was.  
  
I grinned up at her, not really thinking of something else to do. "Hey, Sis. What's up?"  
  
Didn't work.  
  
She glared at me even harder than before with the eyes she had inherited from our dad and for a moment I wondered if her face was going to get stuck like that.   
  
"I can't believe you told Dad about Greg!" she exclaimed in anger. By now the halls of the high school were clear and her voice echoed loudly throughout them. I gave her a confused look as she got even closer to me.  
  
"Tell Dad? I didn't say anything to Dad about Greg because you two are just friends," I paused. "Or at least I thought you two were."  
  
That got her to stop looking so threatening. She was stuck and I was in pure happiness. For once she was without words and couldn't say a thing.  
  
"Then how'd he...ugh! He's been watching my dates, hasn't he?" she demanded in annoyance. I just shrugged and stood up again.  
  
"He might have gotten the information from the friendly neighborbood spider. You know how he says he kind of knows him. What if old Spidey's been keeping an eye out for you going on dates?" I suggested while Melissa glared at me. Surprisingly, I wasn't too far from the truth, which I always found humorous when looking back.  
  
"Don't tell me you actually still believe that!" I paused. Did I really believe that our dad was a friend of Spider-man? Was it true?  
  
"Erm...do you really want me to answer that?" I asked, sheepishly. My younger sister gave me a look of total disbelief.  
  
"I can't believe you! I bet you still believe there's a Santa Claus!" she said in disgust. I guess she hated the fact that I had never actually grew up then.   
  
"You mean there isn't?" I asked as if I were clueless even though I knew fully well about the truth, but it had a desirable effect. Melissa tossed her hands up into the air and walked out of the building, toward my car.  
  
I chuckled to myself as I took my time getting to my car, hoping to annoy my sister some more.   
  
You know how I said that everyone has a downside to every good thing in their life? Well, I guess I had way too many good things in my life that day. And if I had known what I know now, I don't know if I would have done the same thing again.   
  
As I walked on, I didn't notice the sound of my sister shouting something, but at that moment, the front doors to the school exploded inward as two figures fell through. I was thrown off of my feet and I think I heard Melissa screaming, but nothing could ever prepare me for what I saw then.  
  
As soon as everything settled, I uncovered my head and looked over to the hole that was were the doors had used to be. There lied my dad, who looked like he had been through hell and back, while a woman with golden hair and a black outfit that looked as if it made of ashes stood above him, laughing in insane delight.  
  
"Admit it, Parker," she commanded my dad. "This is your last fight and no quick plans can work on me."  
  
I then saw that my dad was still conscious, but I didn't know how nor care why. He stuggled to get himself back onto his feet, but was kicked hard in the gut and hit the wall farthest from me.  
  
"Dad!" I screamed in horror. _Why is this happening?_ I cried out in my mind, probably hoping someone would have an answer.   
  
Things were happening too fast. One minute I was joking with my sister, and the next my dad is thrown into a building and there is a crazy woman.  
  
I was so lost and so confused and so scared that I didn't even realize that the woman was looking at me. That is...I didn't realize it until she spoke. "Ah, it tis a young one," she hissed in her musical voice, which caught my attention. "Shall we see if he is as good as you are, Parker?"  
  
At that point I don't remember much. I just froze and stared at her not able to move or think. At that time, I didn't know what was happening, but later I would find out that she had powers that I thought only existed in movies. I didn't snap out of the trance-like state until I heard my father's voice.  
  
"No! Leave him alone! Leave them all alone! They don't know anything about this!" Dad yelled, his voice suprisingly strong. I looked over to him and saw that he was leaning heavily against a wall, bleeding all over the place.  
  
"Ah, believed ignorance is bliss, did we, Parker? Well," the woman looked over to me and again I looked back at her. "I guess I shall leave him to gain some knowledge."  
  
Then she struck. She was suddenly in front of Dad and was pummeling him into the wall, which cracked and splintered under the force of the blows.  
  
"John!" I whipped my head over to the entrance and saw my sister and heard the sirens in the distance. _They aren't going to make it,_ I thought to myself as I watched the woman grab Dad and toss him back toward the hole. Toward Melissa.  
  
"Mel! Get out of here!" I yelled as I saw the glint of metal in the woman's hand. Melissa actually listened to me and ran off toward the source of the sirens, tears falling from her eyes. The woman, however, wore a wicked grin on her face as she approached Dad, who lied still on the ground.  
  
"Goodbye, Parker!" she shrieked with the same delight that I had heard in her laugh and was about to stab the metal into my father's chest when I knocked into her, sending her to the ground.  
  
I breathed heavily as I watched her lying there. I was beginning to think that I was safe, that she was unconscious, when she suddenly began laughing. Laughing that musical melody that seemed twisted and not right. For as long as I live, I will never forget the sound of her laughter. It will haunt my every dream and will follow me wherever I go.  
  
"The young one can fight," she began as she stood up. "But it will have to fight me some other day."  
  
That statement confused me so much that I didn't even realized that she had hit me afterwards until I hit the other wall. The impact knocked the wind out of me and I thought I was going to pass out, but, instead, I remained awake, wheezing and gasping for air, while the woman approached Dad again. Another piece of metal in her hand.  
  
"Goodbye, Parker," she hissed and raised the weapon high.  
  
"See you in hell, Electra," my dad spat back weakly just before the woman--Electra--plunged the sharp object into his chest.  
  
I would have screamed (I don't think I did), but, instead, rage, guilt, despair, and saddness stole all of the air I had recovered and my world then became black, with the sound of her laughing echoing in the darkness.  
  
  
  
  
My eyes snapped open and as soon as they adjusted, tears began to fill them. It wasn't a dream. None of it was. The unfamiliar, yet familiar ceiling that was above me gave that away. It had all really happened and I was in a hospital room.  
  
I looked down from the ceiling, trying my best to keep from falling apart and looked toward the foot of my bed. Sure enough, there was Mom and Melissa, both of them asleep and both with dried tear trails on their faces.  
  
_Oh, God,_ I thought to myself, looking up to the ceiling again and struggling to keep the blasted tears from falling. _It really happened..._  
  
It hadn't sunken in completely yet. I was still expecting my dad to come into the room and see how I was doing, but it would never happen. Because now...now he wouldn't be able to come home again after a day's work or fall for another one of my lame attempts of getting him to laugh when he was upset about something that no one except he and Mom knew about.  
  
Because he was gone...  
  
_And it's your fault,_ I heard a nasty little voice in my head (probably the side that always made me take the blame for everything). This little voice, though, made it harder to supress the wave of grief and guilt that struck.  
  
"It wasn't my fault," I whispered softly, closing my eyes to both stop the tears from falling and to will the guilt away. I had tried my best, hadn't I? ...or was there something else I could have done? What if Dad had been killed because I wasn't fast enough or strong enough?  
  
When I opened my eyes again, I saw that one of girls were awake. Melissa.   
  
We stared at each other for several quiet and painful minutes, before I felt a tear finally make it's way out, but no others followed. Melissa got up from her resting spot and came closer to me, sitting in the chair near my right side.   
  
I looked away from her. I didn't want to see that it was true. That Dad was gone and wasn't coming back. And Melissa's red-rimmed eyes were too much proof for me to bare.  
  
"John," she said softly, not wanting to wake Mom, obviously, but I didn't respond. "John, please don't shut yourself out. I...I need you, big brother...Don't shut yourself from me."  
  
Now I couldn't help but to look at her. She had a few flood of tears coming down her face and I felt more guilt come at me. I had been lying there, trying to deny the things that had happened, thinking it was my fault that it happened, when there were other people deeply hurt by the horrible events.  
  
Before I could start crying, I hugged my younger sister, who still cried on my hopsital gown. I was never one for caring for people who had hurt by showing compassion. I would usually talk myself out of an awkward situation or joke my way into people's dark moods, making them lighter.  
  
But that time was one of the times I couldn't do either. I couldn't talk myself into believing that none of it had happened and that it as a dream and I could not joke the dark gloom that was in the room at that moment away. All I could do right then was hold my sister until she had fallen asleep due to exhaustion and hope that there was some way I could get that woman--Electra--to pay for what she had done.  
  
Little did I know that I was following in a similiar path that my dad had followed not long ago himself.   
  
  
  
  
About a week after the aweful events that had occurred, it was near time for the funeral. And I honestly didn't want to go. I had been the last one who saw him before he was killed and I didn't think I would be able to keep myself together if I did go.  
  
Thankfully, I didn't shut myself completely off from everybody, though I didn't smile or joke as much as I used to. Actually, I don't think I made one joke since the murder. Instead, I talked to my sister about what I felt about things. I even told her what had happened those last few minutes before Electra had murdered our dad.  
  
Melissa didn't complain about taking all the load, though, and would gladly listen whenever I became upset about something that reminded me of the guilt I had felt, of my possible failure to save Dad. And that was why she was the one who talked me into going to the funeral.  
  
"You need to go, John. You're going to beat yourself over this forever if you don't," she told me seriously a few days before the day that the funeral would take place. How fitting it was to have our dad's funeral on the same day that he had first worn his mask, which I hadn't known then.  
  
"I'm going to beat myself over this until I get rid of Electra. I've told you that a thousand times--" I began to yell, getting upset. Melissa began getting upset as well and looked as if she might cry, which was why I cut myself off.  
  
"If you don't go, you'll never forgive yourself. This is your last chance to say goodbye to Dad and if you don't do it now, it will eat you alive until you're well over a century old," she told me forcefully before rushing out of the room. To keep from showing her tears to me, I suppose.   
  
I immediately felt aweful for what I had done and was going to apologize when I felt a fresh wave of anger pass through my system. I shoved all the paper off of the desk that sat before me in frustration, before using one of my hands to grab at some of my hair. It was the position I used whenever my temper became too uncontrollable, which it was certainly becoming that day.  
  
Just then the phone rang and I picked it up, dropping my hand from my head. "Hello?" I asked tiredly, rubbing my eyes. No sixteen year old, or fourteen year old in my sister's case, should have to deal with this kind of pain.  
  
"Hello, is Mary Jane there?" a man's voice asked.  
  
"That's depends," I answered, with a cold touch to my voice. "Who wants to know?"  
  
I thought for a minute I had scared the man off the phone, but instead, he asked, "Is this John?"  
  
"Yes," I answered, still having the cold edge. "Who are you?"  
  
"I was a...friend of your father's. I'm sorry about what happened, John..." I almost hung up the phone then. I hated it when people wanted to give me their pity. I had no purpose for it and I had no need for it.  
  
"Look, you're sorry about what happened. Okay, I can except that. But when you say it in that tone as if you want to give me some pity that I don't want, that's when I get mad, and that's when I start looking for your name and address," I told the man and was going to hang up, when the man protested.  
  
"John! I had not meant to use that tone. Forgive me. I had not realized I was using such a tone," he assured me, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to believe him. It was much easier to hate someone you don't know than to get to know them.  
  
"All right, fine. You said you knew my dad? How, when,...and where?" I don't even remember why I was asking so many questions. Maybe it was perhaps it made me feel better that I knew that someone else besides me and my family was hurting.  
  
"We met when I went to New York to do an article there about nineteen years ago," the man answered and I froze. Okay, the man might be telling the truth. Dad was, after all, a photographer, so they might have ran into each other when doing an article for an event.  
  
"All right, hold on while I get my mom," I told him and covered the mouthpiece. "MOM!"  
  
"What is it, John?" I heard Mom answer. This was how we did things at our house, although it had been more quiet lately.  
  
"PHONE FOR YOU!" I called back, knowing she was probably in the kitchen, where there was no phone. I heard some pots and pans being dropped and then my mom's cry of frustration.  
  
"Who is it?" she demanded, while I felt a bit of a smirk creeping onto my face. I had just been trying to get the man on the phone to tell me who he was. Irony could be humorous at times.  
  
"This time, I have to know your name. Mom's in a very bad I-dropped-my-pots-again mood," I told the man on the phone, while I listened to Mom's cursing and the slamming of cabinets as if she was looking for something.  
  
The man chuckled a bit, "Glad to know that Mary Jane's still kicking. You can tell her that this is Clark Kent."  
  
I covered the mouthpiece again. "MOM! IT'S CLARK KENT!" I called and that time I heard a dish crash and knew that was a total accident.   
  
Mom came rushing into the room and stared at me while I held the mouthpiece and gave her a funny look. She seemed worried about something that I couldn't put my finger on.  
  
"Give me the phone and go up to your room," she told me softly, as if she were afraid she'd say something that I wasn't supposed to hear. I did I was told and just as I began to climb the stair case I heard her talking to Clark Kent on the phone.  
  
"It's good to hear from you, Clark...yes, I wish it could have been..more of a better time...I honestly don't know...he's distanced himself from me and I don't think he wants..to go...I don't know how it happened...John refuses to talk about it. All I know is that it had something to do with our friendly neighborhood spider--"  
  
I stopped listening as soon I heard that line. How was Spider-man involved? How come Mom was talking about him? He wasn't even there.   
  
I shook my head and continued onward to my bedroom. If I would have thought about it a little longer, I may have figured things out more quickly than I really had.  
  
  
  
  
It was the day of the funeral and I didn't know if I could make it all the way through with the ceremony. Dad was being buried near his uncle's grave and that's where we all stood as the wind blew gently over the mourning group. And it was a large group.  
  
There were many people there that I didn't even know. How could my dad have known this many people when all he did for a job was take photos for a newspaper? It didn't make sense to me at the time, but now that I look back on that moment, I think it would have been better to know what my dad had really done for everyone.  
  
"...thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven, give us this day our daily bread..." It was coming close to the time where each member of the group would say their last goodbyes to him.  
  
As everyone repeated the words the priest said, I kept my mouth shut, just watching the headstone that had my father's name on it.   
  


**Peter J. Parker  
Loving husband and father  
Cared more for others than he did himself  
**

  
I snapped out of my thoughts when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw a slightly taller man with dark hair and glasses standing there, tears in his eyes. He was one of the people I didn't know and I wondered how much my dad did for him.  
  
"You can go right now if you want," he told me and I immediately recognized the voice. It was Clark Kent without a doubt. I shook my head in reply to his suggestion.  
  
"I want to go last," I told him and my wish was granted. Everyone except for Clark Kent, his wife, Mom, Melissa, and myself began to depart the sight. I wasn't sure if I wanted to say goodbye in front of the others, but I did it anyway.  
  
I dropped to my knees, in front of the gave, not caring about my black pants, and blinked back the tears. I struggled to say something. Anything. But nothing came out. It was as if the words got stuck before they had even reached my mouth.  
  
The only thing I did manage to get out was a tearful, "I'm sorry," after several minutes of silence. As soon as I said those two words, Melissa came over to me and hugged me tightly, knowing that I would probably fall apart right then if I didn't have any support.  
  
We sat there, in front of our father's grave, until almost dusk. We both cried until our eyes were dry and red, but we didn't say a word. It was almost as if we would destroy something fragile if we even breathed too hard. And we probably would have.  
  
But Clark and Mom touched our shoulders and got us to get up from the ground and begin walking away from the headstone. Just as we were leaving, I noticed one detail I had failed to see while staring at the marble for that long amount of time.  
  
A small spider web that had a spider in the center was on the top left-hand corner of it. It wasn't a real one, of course, but engraved. I didn't really think about the small spider until well over three years after that morbid day.  
  
  
  
  
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Go ahead and let it all out everyone. Yeah. Petey's gone, but hey, we still got the kids around. Be expecting more of this fic later and make sure to bring tissues next time. You know, just in case you may need them.   
  
Also, I know the beginning my have been a bit rushed, but that was kinda before it reached midnight...yep, it's 4 am CST and I'm still awake....need caffine! Well, goodnight everyone! Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite!  
  
  
  
  



	2. Hidden Lies

All right, first I want to thank all of the people who have read and reviewed this fic, it has really helped boost my ego. Hehe, well, now there is a new post and in this one, there's a little more action and a little more evil.   
  
Oh, and a special thanks to flying fishi, a friend of mine, who gave me the idea for Electra. Thanks a lot, PO! *grins*  
  
I own nothing that has to do with the real Spider-man universe.   
  
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_Chapter Two_

  
  
  
  
  
"Do you need anything else, John?" Mom called from downstairs. I picked up the box I was going through and looked down from the top of the stair case. It had been three years since the murder and things were just getting back to normal. Too bad I had to move out of the house that summer.  
  
I was nineteen and starting college the next fall, so I was packing everything I owned in the house and some other things a month before I was going to move. Why so early do you ask? I really don't know. Maybe because I knew I would forget about it and start doing it at the last second. Maybe I just felt like I should go ahead and get it over with.  
  
...or maybe I was hoping to get away as soon as possible.  
  
Every night, I had trouble sleeping. The woman's insane laughter had haunted my dreams and I couldn't stand it any longer. I thought it was just the house and that as soon as I was out of it, it would go away. But, of course, that wasn't going to happen.  
  
"No, Mom. I got everything. I just need to go through the closets," I called back and grinned as I watched her put her hands on her hips, looking like an older version of my sister when she was going to tell me not to do something.  
  
Yes, I was smiling again. It took time, but I eventually went back to the way I used to be. Almost. I still idn't tell a many jokes or annoy my sister as much as I used to, but I smiled more often and I became more open, though I told no one, except Melissa, what had happened that day.  
  
"Just remember not to go through the closet in my room," she told me sternly. I nodded and then turned to go to my room. I guess if I would have kept going, I wouldn't be what I am now. Too bad my curiosity got the better of me.  
  
My mom and dad had never let Melissa and me go through their closet. I didn't know why then, so I figured it wouldn't hurt just to look. So that was how I found _it_.  
  
I crept into the bedroom, hoping that neither Mom nor my sister noticed that I had went in there. I hadn't been in that bedroom since I was thirtheen, I think. And it was pretty much the same as it had been then...except none of Dad's things were in there. Mom had boxed up all his belongings and had put them somewhere. The closet maybe?  
  
I began to slowly go to the closet, putting down the small box I had been holding. I froze when I heard my sister's door open, but she was just going to the bathroom, it seemed, so I kept moving.  
  
I was laughing at myself, because it felt like this was something out of Mission Impossible. At that thought, I began to hum the theme to the movie. (If you're thinking I'm making this up, get a lie detector and try it on me)  
  
It took mere seconds to reach the closet I had been forbidden to go into. The door of the closet had a full size mirror and, for a moment, I stared at my reflection.  
  
My mom had always told me that I was like a younger version of Dad with an even more witty sense of humor, but I had never believed her. When I was standing in front of the mirror, however, I could almost believe that it was dad standing in front of me instead of my reflection.  
  
I quickly looked away as the sound of Electra's voice came into my mind and grabbed the doorknob to the door. As soon as I opened it, the sound of her twisted laughter died away and I sighed in relief.   
  
It seemed that whenever I thought about Dad, about that last day, I would heard the insane woman's laughter mocking me, trying to get me to break down. But I wasn't going to let some ghost beat me, even if she was still alive somewhere; I wasn't going to break down just because of some stupid voice in my head.  
  
Didn't I say things used to be simple?  
  
When I opened the closet, I had thought there would have been a little more junk but instead there were some of Mom's clothes and a bunch of boxes and bags on the shelf above the clothes. Taking my mind off of what I had been thinking earlier, I continued to investigate the closet.  
  
There was a suspicious looking shoe box, so I decided to go after it first...only problem was that it was under a stack of bags. _Well, this is going to be fun,_ I thought to myself as I took hold of the old box.  
  
Shouldn't have done that.  
  
All the bags that were on top of the box fell on top of me and I was knocked onto the ground by the weight of it all. I groaned and shoved them all off of me, but as I was sitting up I noticed that one bag on top of the box hadn't fallen off and I knew I'd have to move it before I could get to the box. It looked like a big and heavy bag.  
  
When I got myself up and looked at it more closely, I realized that it wasn't big at all and easily picked it up. As I picked it up though, something small fell off and onto the ground and I looked to see what it was.   
  
A small spider that had it's legs curled up in a position that would suggest death. I took a step back, not because I was afraid of spiders or anything, but because I had just thought of something.  
  
The spider in the web on my dad's headstone.   
  
The one on the grave wasn't like the one on the floor, however, but it did make me wonder about it. Why was it on the marble in the first place? And why hadn't I thought about it until then?  
  
Thinking the bag, rather than the box, could shed some light on the question, I kept it in my hand and walked out of the closet, forgetting to fix up the bags that had fallen. I closed the door and then headed on my way out of the room, remembering to take with me the small box I had put down before reaching the closet.  
  
I carefully left the room and headed to my own, hoping to look at it as soon I got in, but it turned out that I would have to wait a while. Mom called for Melissa and I to come down and eat lunch, while I blew a fristrated sigh.   
  
Figuring I would get a chance to look at bag later, I quickly tossed into my room and shut the door before going downstairs. When I was on the third to the last step, I saw Melissa looking at me funny.   
  
I gave her an equally funny look and asked, "What?"  
  
She shook her head and went on into the kitchen, leaving me to wonder if she had known that I had gone into Mom's room. If she did, then most likely she wouldn't tell, because I still knew some blackmail I could use on her.   
  
Like how Mom's car got that dent in the passenger's door last week.  
  
  
  
  
Lunch didn't turn out how I had hoped. I found out that I had been covered in dust by the falling bags in Mom's room, which I remembered with dread that I hadn't put them back up, by my mom asking me why I was so dirty. Of course, I didn't confess right there and then (not yet) because I came up with an excuse.  
  
"I was cleaning my closet. I knew I should have cleaned it up sooner," I lied to her with a believeable tone and expression. "A lot of junk fell out and knocked me over."  
  
Of course, I got lectured for letting it get that bad. That was just how Mom was. When you did something right you got praised and then got told off for doing something wrong, which my dad had found entirely humorous.  
  
There was that laughter again.   
  
That musical melody of twisted evil and demon songs played through my head, only this time much worse. My head started pounding and I had to excuse myself from the table, which gained me two worried glances from my mother and sister.  
  
I went up to the bathroom, clutching the side of my head as the pain began to blossom, but once I reached it, I was barely standing.   
  
There was something wrong with me, but I couldn't figure it out with that retched voice taunting me and actually speaking.  
  
_**Come out. Come out and play, Young One,**_ the voice taunted and I groaned as it felt like someone had slammed my head into a brick wall. I think that was when my nose started to bleed.  
  
I wiped at the blood, trying to clear my head and figure out what was wrong, but I wasn't successful and the voice continued it's sing-song talking. _**You're trying to fight me, Young One? You're very humorous, indeed.**_   
  
I shook my head, wondering if I were going crazy, as I gripped the sink. I grabbed some tissue with a shaking hand to use to stop my nose from bleeding, but as I did that, I looked into the mirror and instead of seeing my own refelction, I saw her.  
  
I dropped the tissue and jumped backwards as she cackled evilly at me.   
  
I couldn't stand it any longer. It was all so confusing and painful, that I wasn't thinking straight so I began to yell, "Stop it! Go away!"  
  
She continued to laughed at me, twirling a piece of metal tauntingly, as I heard Mom call up, "John? John, are you all right?"  
  
I was going to call back that I wasn't okay, that I was going crazy, but Electra gained my attention by pointing her weapon at me.  
  
_**You have a date to keep, Young One. Do not disappoint m--**_ It was then that I punched the mirror, shattering it. She had left right before I had though, and so had the pain in my head.  
  
I stood there panting for a moment, letting the blood from my nose fall down my chin and onto the floor, when both Mom and Melissa ran into the small room. Mom covered her face and stared in horror, while Melissa's eyes widened and her mouth fell open.  
  
Not knowing what they were staring at, I followed their line of vision and was met with the sight of my fist, covered in blood and with a few shards of the broken mirror stuck into it. Feeling suddenly dizzy, I quickly turned toward the bath tub and proceeded to empty my stomach of its contents.  
  
As soon as I was done, I used my shaky, uninjured hand to wipe off anything hat hd gotten onto my faceand then looked back to the doorway, where only Melissa was standing. But then I looked down at the broken mirror and saw some of the blood from my fist and promptly pass out cold.  
  
  
  
  
I woke up later with a major headache and a dull pain in my right hand, not really remembering what had happened. But as soon as I opened my eyes, I realized what had happened and groaned. I felt the bed I was on shift and looked over to my left side, saw Melissa, and groaned again. I had never told her about hearing voices, so this was going to bequite a story to tell.   
  
"Did I pass out?" I asked, slurring a bit because of the headache I felt. Melissa eyed me evenly before nodding and I groaned again. I had never passed out, excpet twice--this time and the time when Electra had killed Dad.  
  
"John," I looked over to her and I could see that she had been crying again. She seemed to have been doing a lot of that lately. "What happened?" she asked, with a large frown on her face.  
  
I looked over to my injured hand and relaxed a bit, shaking my head. "You're not going to believe me when I tell you," I answered.  
  
Melissa sat back on the bed again and told me in a soft voice, "Mom's been real worried, I mean, the whole mirror was shattered--" I tried to turn my head away, but she grabbed it before I could look away. "--completely shattered, John. Mom was in total tears when she saw that you had passed out. What _happened,_ John?"  
  
I tried to advoid looking her in the eyes, but as soon as I noticed that she had started crying again, I couldn't help but look. And I caved in as soon as I did. I didn't want to tell her, I didn't want her to think her older brother was crazy, but I couldn't keep it in.  
  
"It was her," I started, closing my eyes to keep the stinging tears at bay. "I-I hear her sometimes, when I think about Dad and today...I-I saw her...in the mirror. Sh-she was taunting me with that metal weapon she had used on Dad. I-I couldn't think of any other way of stopping her...my head was pounding, I couldn't think straight...I--" I opened my eyes then and felt a tear fall down the side of my face. "--oh, God, Mel, I'm going nuts."  
  
Melissa's eyes widened at this and I thought for sure she thought I was going crazy, but instead she made me sit up and hugged me, careful of my hand. I didn't want to cry and I didn't, but I did hug her back and have a few tears fall.  
  
"Why haven't you told me about this?" she asked after a moment and I pulled away from the hug and looked her in the eye, making sure she would understand what I was going to say.  
  
"I didn't tell you, because, one: I didn't want to you to think I was crazy, and two: I am not going to put all this on you. Their my ghosts to face and if I go insane because of them, then so be it, but I don't want my little sister to fall with me. Do you understand?" I said, watching her closely.  
  
She looked as if she wanted to agrue, but didn't because of what I had said and nodded. I nodded with her. "Good. Now, go tell Mom I'm all right and don't tell her any of this. I don't want her to worry about me."  
  
"Too late for that," she told me with a small smile. I grinned a bit too, but it was a half-hearted one.  
  
"Yeah, and I'm going to have to think of a good lie to cover it," I replied, looking at my hand. Melissa put her hand on my shoulder and I turned back to her.  
  
"Just rest, okay. Don't even bother to think of one. I think I have an idea. And while I tell Mom, you read something or something. Take your mind off of her," she told me and then stood up and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  
  
Was I really going insane? Or had everything I heard and saw been real?  
  
  
  
  
A week later I was able to use my hand again and then the week after that it was almost healed all the way. I also never found out what Melissa had told Mom and always got uncomfortable whenever she would give me a look that I couldn't describe.   
  
I also never looked in the bag and neither Mom nor Melissa notice it in my room. They probably thought it was dirty clothes (heh, now there's a laugh) or something. I had even forgot about it, mistakening it for something that had been there for a long time.  
  
It wasn't until the third week after I had shattered the mirror, that I remembered the bag. I had stepped on it one day and felt something hurt my foot. I hopped on one foot, while I checked too see I had cut my foot on something, but unfortunately, I fell over and that's when I spot it again.  
  
The dark bag, a garbage bag really, had several knots as if the person who had tied it up, Mom most likely, hadn't wanted whatever was in it to come out again. Curiosity grabbed hold of me once again and I sat up and grabbed the bag with my left hand since I was used to using it while my right was healing.  
  
I made sure the door was closed and then tried to open the bag, failing because of how many there were and how tight they had been tied. So, thinking there was no other way of opening it, I ripped the top open a bit and peered inside.  
  
Blue cloth.  
  
"Just clothes," I said with a slight laugh as I stood up. I looked again in the bag before shaking my head and tossing it over on the other side of my bed, where no one standing in the doorway could see it if they came in. Laughing some more, I left my room to go and get some dinner.  
  
Of course, if I had looked a little deeper in the bag, I would have seen that it was attached to some red and that there was two eyes peering curiously through the hole in the bag. And if I would have turned back then, I would have seen what those eyes and colors were.  
  
  
  
  
After dinner, it was my turn to do the dishes, so I began to to fill up the sink with water, we didn't have a dishwasher, and hum a song I had heard off of a movie. This would be one of my last chores in a while, since I was moving into an apartment I had rented in a week, so I was actually happy for once to do something.  
  
I soon found out that it wasn't as happy of a task as I would have liked.  
  
When the water was filling up, I heard something. A whisper. Turning around to the door to the living room, I looked for the person who was whispering, but saw no one.  
  
"Mom? Melissa?" Neither answered. I shrugged a bit, but my heart was beating faster with slight fear. It couldn't be her. It couldn't be because I wasn't think about that day, I wasn't thinking about it at all.  
  
"Young One," I heard near my ear. I spun around, with a butterknife in my hand, but still saw nothing. I was beginning to sweat now. Why was this happening? It didn't make any sense.  
  
"Where are you?" I demanded, knowing that Mom and Melissa wouldn't here me, since they were out of the house at the moment. Getting ready to go to the store to pick up some dessert we had been wanting.  
  
I heard laughter, _her_ laughter, and turned toward the living room doorway and dropped the knife, gasping in horror. It was her. Electra was standing right there, in between the living room and kitchen, a cruel smile on her lips.  
  
I backed away immediately, knocking into the counter and knocking over some cups and bowls, while she continued to smile. My eyes went wider as she came into the kitchen in smooth strides, carefully taking her time.  
  
"My, my, my, Young One, how you have grown. I suppose 'Young One' is an inappropriate term now, isn't it?" she said in a false sweet, sing-song voice.   
  
I took a few deep breaths before grabbing hold of something. A large carving knife. I held it in front of me and gave her a not-so-strong scowl. "Get away from me, you demon witch," I told her, which cause her to laugh that horrible laugh.  
  
"Oh, no need to worry, Parker," I winced as I remembered how she had called Dad that before killing him. "I will not kill you yet. I still want my fight. I am only coming by to say how happy I am that you're finally finding what your father was all about."  
  
I was puzzled for about helf a second, but then I threw it aside and held the knife higher. "I am in no mood for riddles. Either go away or I'll--" Suddenly the knife was ripped from my hand and sailed over to Electra, who caught it with ease.  
  
"Hm," she said with a pur before she brought the knife to her face.   
  
"Quite a poor weapon for you to try to harm me with. You're father learned that the hard way," she finished and then, before I understood why, I leaned to the right. Then I stared in horror and surprise as the knife was now stuck into the wall...right where I had been just seconds ago.  
  
The look of horror still on my face, I looked up at her again and saw her grin with evil delight.  
  
"Ah, faster than your father was, I think." I think my face went completely white with that comment, I'm not sure, but she continued to laugh wickedly.  
  
"Perhaps I did the right thing. A fight against you then would have surely been no fun at all. But soon, I'm sure it will be a grand fight," she purred, walking closer. I moved to the side away from the knife and backed up until I hit a wall, but she kept coming and I kept trying to back up.  
  
Then, for no reason at all, she grinned even more widely and I became afraid that I had done something to make her happy. I looked around me and began to panic when I saw that I was no longer on the ground...but on the wall!  
  
She spun around and clapped her hands together in insane happiness, while I freaked out about climbing on the wall. What the hell was going on with me!  
  
"Oh, yes! This is even better than I would have thought!" she laughed in her musical voice.  
  
Too scared to think straight, I began to think that she was the one who was causing all of this and yelled, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!"  
  
She froze at that, her smile falling flat off, and her face became dark. "Listen, _Parker_, I have caused nothing to have given you such powers. I loathed the one who gave them to you, for reasons for my own knowledge."  
  
Now it was my turn to freeze.   
  
_What was she saying?_ part of me thought, while the other answered, _What do you think she was saying?_  
  
"What are you saying?" I managed to say in a small voice. She regained her giddy, yet insane grin, as she danced in front of me. I climbed a little higher on the wall, hoping that will keep her from attacking me.  
  
"You, my dear boy," she said, putting a finger on my foot, which was in a tennis shoe. "Are quite a laugh. Do you mean to tell me that you have not thought of the possibility that you may have _inherited_ these odd abilities? Dodging fast object, climbing walls...seems familiar, doesn't it?"  
  
I suddenly felt sick. She wasn't saying what I thought she was saying, was she? It wasn't possible. Not possible at all. She was making it all up.   
  
Somehow, though, deep inside I knew it was true. She wasn't just telling me a far-fetched story and this was no dream.  
  
"No," I objected, shaking my head. "No, no, that's not true!"  
  
She just smiled up at me, with an almost-innocent look on her face. "Why do you think I would lie? Why else did I go after Peter Parker? He's alter-personality was becoming such a nuisance that I had to find a way to get ride of him," she brightened some more. "And I did, finding another food fighter in the process."  
  
I continued to shake my head though. I closed my eyes, hoping that it would make her disappear. When I opened them, she was gone. I looked over the room, trying to see if it was a trick and only then did I notice that someone was opening the front door.  
  
I was in too much shock to remember I was still on the wall, so that's where I was when the door opened and Mom walked in. She saw me in the kitchen, on the wall, gasped, and told Melissa to do something outside.  
  
I watched all this with only partial attention and only looked directly at my mother when she was standing in the doorway. She had her hands to her face and looked as if she was going to burst into tears.  
  
So it was true...all of it.  
  
"Is it true?" I asked, not remembering that she hadn't been here, but she seemed to understand what I was asking.  
  
"John--" she began to say and came forward a bit, but stopped when I climbed a little higher.  
  
"_Why didn't you tell me! Why didn't you say anything!_" I demanded, upset that Mom hadn't said anything about Dad being able to do any of this, upset that I was a freak. Mom just shook her head and brought her hands down from her mouth.  
  
"We didn't want to hurt you or Melissa, John. We didn't want anyone else to have to go tthrough all of that--"  
  
"_Then why is she coming after me!_" I yelled, while both she and I began to get tears in our eyes.  
  
"I don't know! She appeared out of know where--" she tried again to get closer, but again I moved higher on the wall. "John..."  
  
"Just leave me alone! Don't come near me or talk to me!" I shouted and jumped to the ground, running out the back door. I needed to get away from it all. All the lies, the half-truths. Why did everything have to be this way?  
  
I heard Mom call my name, but I didn't listen. I ran around the house, into the front yard to get to my car. I saw Melissa there with a scared look on her face and tried to avoid her, but she ran into my path and stopped me from passing.  
  
"_Move, Melissa,_" I yelled, but she didn't budge.   
"John, what's on Earth--" she tried to ask as she put a hand on my shoulder in a comforting manner, but I slapped her hand off me as if I thought if she touched me, she'd be cursed with whatever curse I had.  
  
It just looked to her like I hated her. "Don't touch me," I told her with a more controlled voice. "Just let me go."  
  
And she did. She moved aside and I marched to my car and got in it just as Mom came out of the house. I started the motor and pulled out of the driveway as Mom began yelling my name. I ignored it all, not thinking straight, and drove off.  
  
I needed time to think. Time to sort things out...but what I didn't know was that I didn't have much time left to think.  
  
  
  
  
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All right, I finish this fic tweny-seven minutes before my curfew. Isn't that just great timing? *grins again* Well, I hope you all have liked your read and don't worry, there is more to come soon!  
  
  
  
  



	3. Searching

All right, here's the next part. You guys wanted it, and now you've got it. Now, some of you had some questions and this is where I will take the time to answer them.  
  
**Jrac:** I know what you're saying about the classic elements, but that's just how I work. *shrugs* I'm just a classic sort of guy. Anyways, you're wondering why Clark Kent is in here? Well, I couldn't think of anyone else who could do the part that's in this chapter, so I had him in the first chapter. He only makes two appearances though. That chapter and this one, so it's just a cameo sort of thing.  
  
**Jade MacGregor:** Is it coming out soon? Well, it's out now, so read all you want! *grins and then blushes* Nah, my fic ain't that good...I'm just typing things I think...*gets embarrassed and moves onto the fic*  
  
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_Chapter Three_

  
  
  
  
  
After running from Mom and Melissa, I didn't go far...just to the local cemetary, where Dad was. And that's where I stayed until the next morning, thinking about everything that had happened that night; thinking about the abilities and powers I now had.  
  
It was a curse.  
  
I thought about all the times that I could have realized that he wasn't just Peter Parker. There were so many of them that I was beginning to wonder where I was when all of it had happened; wonder how I could have missed that Dad hadn't been like other dads.  
  
_You kept the secret, but was it the right thing to do?_ I thought to myself as I read over the stone again.  
  


**Peter J. Parker  
Loving husband and father  
Cared more for others than he did himself**

  
  
It was the same as it had been when I last saw it, three years ago, except now I knew what the last line meant. Care more for others than he did himself...  
  
How true it was.  
  
Dad had cared so much about other thaters that even when he married and had children he had remained in the pople of New York's life as Spider-man. He even cared so much about others that he refused to let anyone in his family get invloved and get hurt. But it still didn't help and now I was hurting. But while I was hurting because of the lies, I had hurt my mom and Melissa with my action.  
  
It was a cycle, and it was all started by one small spider.  
  
Now, I bet you're wondering how I knew it was the spider that had started the whole thing. Simple answer: Electra had been talking to me, through my thoughts.  
  
Yeah, I thought I was going insane too, but I figured if I was going crazy, I might as well listen to the voice in my head.  
  
What I found strange (irony right there) was how she had known all of this about my dad, while I barely knew him. I thought I had known him, but I now knew that I knew not a single thing about him as a person.  
  
How could she know so much about him? How could she have killed him after all he had been through? Why did she do it?  
  
Of course, I wouldn't find out the answer to those questions for a while.  
  
It was then that I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't turn around because I had a pretty good idea who it was.  
  
Clark Kent.  
  
Okay, now you people reading this may wonder what he (Superman) is doing in my story. Well, Clark had, indeed met my dad about twenty years ago when doing an article about something in New York. Clark's wife, Lois, hadn't been married to him at the time and Mom had stayed in contact with her sicne they had hit it off great while they had been in New York.  
  
Anyway, Clark had came around every now and then after Dad had died. 'Checking up on things' as he would say. He would help us out if we ever have any emotional turmoil, which was why he was there, most likely.  
  
I think he has a way of detecting conflicting thoughts, which is a good thing because if he hadn't of come, then I think I'd be down in California, forgetting what had happened.  
  
"Checking up on things?" I asked with a bitter tone to my voice. Clark stood beside me a moment, in silence.  
  
"He was a good man," he commented and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He still looked the same as he looked three years ago, though I think he had a few more grey hairs...probably my imagination though.  
  
"I wouldn't know," I muttered, looking to the grave. "I doubt I really knew him at all."  
  
"Oh, you knew him," Clark replied and I think he was smiling a bit, but I couldn't really tell because I wasn't looking ta him. "Or at least half of him. I only knew a small part of him, until we ran into each other."  
  
"So you're saying I'm lucky I knew anything about him?" I asked, again bitterly.  
  
"Some people never even get a chance to know their parents. I know I didn't," he answered calmly. I turned to him with a scowl on my face.  
  
I was always the one with the bad temper in the family.  
  
"Yeah, I knew about him, and I'm lucky for it, but I got that luck at a price. I'm not even human!" I asked, tossing my hands into the air.  
  
Clark gave me a slight chuckle. "You sure look and act like one."  
  
I crossed my arms my arms and lowered my gaze, glaring at the ground. "Humans don't climb walls," I muttered.  
  
"And they aren't made of steel, either. Yet you act like you are and if you keep doing that, you're going to break down. Believe me, I know. I've seen it happen on more than one occassion," he pointed out.  
  
That got me thinking.   
  
"Fine, but being a freak isn't much different," I replied.  
  
"Ah, but are you a freak? To me, freaks are those people who are mutated in some way and believe that they can use those mutations for evil purposes. Some examples are the Green Goblins and anyother enemy of a superhero, whether they be real or not. You," he paused before chuckling a bit. "I know for a fact you're not one of those."  
  
I narrowed my eyes and looked up at him. "How do you know that?"  
  
"Do you want the truth or another lie? I wouldn't want to give you the lie, but if you can't handle the truth, the lie will make everything easier," he answered and then it was my turn to pause.  
  
"The truth," I finally said.  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Yes." No I wasn't. The truth always hurt and I didn't want another bruise.  
  
"You're positive? I mean, the lie would make things less painful," he said.  
  
"Life is pain," I replied icily.  
  
"Did you feel this way before you found out? Before your father died?"  
  
That's when I realized what he was doing. He was testing me. For what? Well, I wasn't too sure myself.  
  
"No...but I do now," I answered slowly.  
  
Clark shook his head. "Then you're thinking like a freak. Life isn't pain unless you want, believe, or think it to be," he said. "Fate and Destiny, two things I believe in, however, have a dangerous and odd sense of humor, but things can and sometimes will come out okay."  
  
"Fine. Life sucks and then you die," I snapped, gesturing to the graves. Clark got a humorous look on his face.  
  
"Now there's a person who has given up on trying to live. They're usually the suicidal type. Are you suicidal?" he said.  
  
I was becoming frustrated at Clark now. Couldn't I be depressed just one time?  
  
"What do you want me to say? That I love my life? That's there's going to be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? Well, fuck that and fuck you! Nothing had gone right for me since Dad died! And now I know I'm a freak that climbs walls and dodge sharp objects! I even have Dad's murderer talking to me in my head! I'm going insane and I don't even get the chance to fall into self pity! Fuck it all then! I give up!"  
  
After all that yelling, I turned from him and began to walk off when I heard Clark call.  
  
"John," I turned to him and noticed how hard his eyes were. "You wanted to know the truth? All right, here it is: I had thought that you weren't like any of those monstrosities because I thought that you were like your father. Perhaps I was wrong and what you just said is making me believe I was."  
  
I looked to the ground for a moment, rolling his words in my head. When I looked up again, he was already gone.  
  
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair as I thought over the whole thing in my head, wondering if Clark hated me. Later I would find out that I was still on his good list. Perhaps it was because he knew I had everything bottled and only egged me on to get me to let it out. Or perhaps he had done it to held me see what I needed to do...  
  
...or maybe both.  
  
Well, needless to say, it worked. I stared at my dad's grave from where I was standing. I stare at the small spider once again.  
  
It gave my family a curse, but this curse can be delt with...after I went home.  
  
  
  
  
And that's where I went. It wasn't easy, but I accomplished the first step to the beginning of my new life...I walked into the house.  
  
No, wait...that was step number two. Number one was getting out of the car.  
  
Anyway, I got to the step where I got into the house...the empty house...the empty, messed up house...  
  
I stared at the mess with my fists clenched. I knew who had done it. I was the one person I heard almost every second...  
  
Electra.  
  
I walked into the living room and peered into the kitchen. The knife was still in the wall, exactly where it had been the night before.  
  
With a small twinge in the back of my mind, I continued on my way through the house to the stairs. I climbed them with an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was going to--  
  
I leaned against the railing and nearly fell back onto the first floor as the railing broke off. I stared for a moment, but then continued. At least I knew what had been bothering me.  
  
I wanted to call out to see if Mom or Melissa were still here, but didn't for fear that Electra was still around. So I silently made it to the second floor and turned toward Mom's room.  
  
The door was open and the room was a mess, but no Mom, so I continued to Melissa's room. Again the door was open, the room was messy, and no Melissa. I then turned to my room.  
  
The door was shut and I was almost afraid of opening it because of the sense of danger I was getting, but I continued on, opened the door, and ducked.  
  
There was Melissa, one of my baseball bats in her hands. After she recognized me, she dropped the bat and sighed in relief.  
  
"Thank God it's just you, John," she breathed. I stood up straight and studied my room. Everything was the same as how I had left it, but Melissa looked as if she had ran a marathon.  
  
"What happened?" I asked, entering the room all the way and closing the door behind me. Melissa sat heavily on my bed and wiped her eyes.  
  
"She attacked us while you were gone. Mom told me to hide and for most of the time, I hid in the stair's closet," suddenly Melissa stopped, looked around the room, and continued in a whisper, "She and Mom argued about something that had to do with Dad and then she took her. After she left with Mom, I ran up here and locked myself in here. She looked all around the place for me, but for some reason didn't come in here."  
  
She sniffed and wiped her eyes again, while I stared at her, a deadpan expression on my face.  
  
"Electra has Mom?" I asked, not believing it. When she nodded I began shake my head and yell, "Dammit! No, this can't be happening!"  
  
"John?" Melissa asked, while I fell to my knees, bringing my hands to my head. It was my fault. Mom was captured by Electra because she was trying to get to me. All my fault...  
  
I didn't realize it then, but I had been repeating that aloud until Melissa came up to me and shook me. Hard. I snapped back to reality and looked up at my sister's face. She wasn't crying this time, but I was coming close to it.  
  
"John, this is not your fault! It never was!" she exclaimed in a low voice. I began to shake my head. She didn't understand anything about what was going on. Could I put this all on her? Did I want to?  
  
Suddenly, I was beginning to understand why no one had told us about our Dad's other self.  
  
"It is, Melissa! Electra was looking for me! She wants the fight I owe her!" I yelled, which stopped her from saying anything. She completely froze, staring at me like I had suddenly sprouted two more arms and legs (not a pretty imagine when you think about it).  
  
"Wha...what?" she stuttered. She was shaking and I could tell because she still had her hands on my shoulders. I then took her by the shoulders, which made her jump slightly, and stared directly at her.  
  
"I left something out about the day Dad died. Electra had wanted to fight me because she had realized who I was, but Dad yelled for her not to, that I didn't know, so she said she'd fight me later. that later is now. She's after me because of what Dad was," I told her in a steady tone, though I felt like I was shuddering like crazy.  
  
Melissa just stared at me for a moment, not understanding anything. "Wha...what about Da-dad?" she asked, timidly, as if she was scared about what she would learn.  
  
"She hated Dad. I don't know why, except for the fact that he was becoming a nuisance to her. At least...Spider-man was. Peter Parker meant nothing to her," I answered softly. Now there were tears in Melissa's eyes.  
  
"No. No, no, no! John, this isn't funny!" she cried out, as the tears fell down her face.   
"I'm not making this up! Where has Spider-man been the passed three years, Mel? Huh? He's in the same grave our dad is in--"  
  
"It can't be true!" she objected, while I stood up and walked over to the wall.  
  
"It is true, and if you don't believe me, then watch this," And so, I did climbed up the wall again, facing toward Melissa, who was staring at me with wide eyes. "This is what Mom got freaked out about last night and why I left. You think I find it fun that Dad had left us with a curse like this? And that's right, we _both_ have it. At least, I think we do."  
  
And then there was silence. As we stared at each other, me on the wall and her on the floor, I listened for a noise, any noise, but there was none. I had heard once that silence was the loudest thing of all, and they weren't lying. I thought I was going to go crazy from the lack of noise, but then Melissa said something.  
  
"If we can do stuff like Spider-man...couldn't we...save Mom?" she asked, and I thought about it.  
  
"We could," I said slowly and jumped down from the wall, suddenly going over to the forgotten bag next to my bed. "And we are."  
  
Melissa stared at me, while I dug into the bag. I paused only a milisecond before tossing her some red and blue clothes. A Spider-man outfit. She blinked at it and then looked back to me, as I held up another one.  
  
"And we'll go as New York's old hero," I said with a grim face. Melissa looked back down at the mask she held and began to grin slightly in hope.  
  
"What about the webs?" she asked and looked up just as I held up some cuff things. I tossed two to her and kept two for myself. She stared at them for a moment before looking up at me with a curious expression.  
  
I shrugged. "Dad was smart. He always had backups, I guess."   
  
"Not that," she said before eyeing the bag next to my bed. "How'd you find that?"  
  
"Dug in Mom's closet about three weeks ago," I answered and walked into my medium-sized closet, which was empty, and began to change into the outfit. Of course I tested the cuff things to see what they did and how they worked while I was in there.  
  
  
  
  
When I was done, I stepped out with the mask in my hands and looked around for Melissa...she wasn't there. Fear grabbed at me as I thought of the worse-case scenerio.  
  
"Melissa!" I called and nearly jumped out of my skin as something fell onto my bed. That something was Melissa in the Spider-man outfit with the mask on.  
  
I sighed in relief, while she got off of the bed. "You yelled?" she asked, while I glared at her.  
  
"That wasn't funny," I told her flatly. She put her hands on her hips and gave me what I think was a glare that would have killed me if looks could kill.  
  
"Well, you should learn to look up. I'm not going to be on the ground all the time, you know," she said and for a moment I wondered why she was acting so different than how she had been acting before. Maybe it was the mask hiding her facial expressions.  
  
I slipped my mask on and stuck a finger in her face. "Don't get too cocky. I wouldn't like it if I have to go after you because you've done something crazy," I told her.  
  
I think she rolled her eyes, but I couldn't tell, so I just rolled my own eyes.  
  
"You're the one that will go do crazy things," she pointed out and I waved a hand impatiently.  
  
"I'm serious--"  
  
"You always are!" she shouted and I paused. Again there was silence, but it didn't laste long. Melissa shook her head and headed to the window, saying, "Nevermind. Let's get going before your girlfriend gets too impatient."  
  
With that she hopped out of the window. I stuck my head out and growled, "That's not funny at all."  
  
"Sorry," she said before shooting a web and swinging off. I watched her go, thinking for a moment about how I didn't like how that suit was on her, but I shook it off and took off after her.  
  
I guess--okay, okay, so we _did_ attract some attention from the streets. Men, women, and little kids looked up and watched as we swung across the sky. Some of them were shouting into their cell phones, with wide eyes, but I didn't pay them much mind. I just concentrated on where to go.  
  
I was shaken from my thoughts, however, when Melissa landed on the roof of a building. I followed and landed next to her. "What now?" I asked, while she looked around the place, probably amazed that she had been able to do all of that.  
  
Honestly, I didn't even noticed that I had been some place high and dangerous.  
  
"Question, big brother...how are we supposed to find her?" she asked and I paused yet again. How were we supposed to find her? I tried to think of something and that was when I realized that I hadn't heard Electra's voice for well over two hours.  
  
I now looked around the place before stating the obvious, "We have a problem."  
  
"You may be clueless, but I think I have an idea," Melissa said, while a cocked my head to the side, since I couldn't give her a curious look. "What if she has been attacking other people other than our family? The newpapers would have something wouldn't they?"  
  
"I'm not a detective, how should I know?" I answered, tossing my hands in the air. I think I heard her laugh a bit before she replied.  
  
"Well, it's time you learn because we're gonna be stuck as superheros for quite a while."  
  
I shook my head. "We're saving Mom and then hanging up the suits. There is no way I'm going to serve those people down there, who just gape at something they find unnatural," I told her, pointing over the side of the roof, where sereval people were gathering, looking curiously up.  
  
"Fine, you do that, while I continue. Until then though, we're a team and we have to start acting like one. First things first...where is she?" Melissa said and I was about to object when she took off again. I blew an irritated sigh and followed.  
  
  
  
  
It didn't take long for us to reach the nearest newspaper, which was (surprise, surprise) The Bugle. Of course, since we were new to all of this, we didn't know quite how to get the editor's (not the same guy that ran things when my dad worked there) attention, but then I came up with an idea.  
  
Melissa was crouched on the flagpole just below me, while I was sticking to the wall just beside the window to the editor's office. "You're sure this will work?" she called and I looked down at her, smiling under the mask.  
  
"Have I been wrong before?" I replied, peering into the almost-empty office. The editor was the only one in there.  
  
"Do you really want an answer to that?" Melissa called back. I looked down at her, shaking my head. We were both extremely nervous since we didn't quite know what we were doing, but we cracked jokes to ease the tension of the situation.  
  
I looked into the office again before knocking on the glass. As I saw the chair begin to spin around toward me, I pulled my face away from the window.   
  
Nothing happened.  
  
I rolled my eyes and peered inside again. The man was still facing the opposite wall and was still talking on the phone. Again I rolled my eyes and tapped on the window. Again I ducked back to where I had been before, but this time, something happened.  
  
The window opened and the man stuck his head out to see what had been tapping the window. He looked to the direction opposite of me and I laughed a bit, before calling, "Wrong way, Buddy."  
  
The man turned toward me, widened his eyes in surprise, and went back into the office. I frowned and followd just before he closed the window.  
  
"Wait just a second, Pal. I'm not going to hurt you," I told him as I preched on the window sill. The man backed up until her fell back into his seat, the shocked look still on his face.  
  
"Sp-spider-man," he sputtered. I couldn't help but feel slightly grim at that, but I just cocked my head to the side.  
  
"That would be me, although not the same one you used to know," I said, before looking back out the window and calling to Melissa, "I got in, move up!"  
  
"Who are you--" The man began to asked but was shocked into silence as my sister's head appeared over the window sill. She looked around for a minute before nodding.  
  
"Nice place, Spidey, wish I had one like it," she quipped, while I rolled my eyes. I looked over to the man, who was beginning to look as if he was going to turn as white a sheet.  
  
"Sisters...what can you do with them?" I simply said, while Melissa swatted at me as she jumped into the office. The man now looked like he was going to turn yellow.  
  
"S-s-sister?" he stuttered, while Melissa went behind him and began to spin the chair he was sitting in. I shook my head and cleared my throat. Melissa stopped spinning the chair and looked as if she was pouting, but I firmly shook my head.  
  
"Oh, all right," she said and sat on the desk. "You really take the fun out of things, Spidey."  
  
"Well, dear sister," I replied sarcastically. "If you have forgotten, we're on a search-and-rescue mission, not a torture-poor-little-editors-because-he-looks-like-he's-seen-a-ghost mission."  
  
"Fine, if you want to be Mr. Morbid, go ahead. Meanwhile, I'll be looking for information," she said and jumped off the desk, going over to the filing cabnets. I shook my head again and looked to the pale man.  
  
"Right. As I was saying, my sister and I are looking for information on a crazy woman. You wouldn't by chance know anything about a blonde haired woman, so high, and has a demented laugh?" I asked, showing how tall Electra was. The man shook his head and I looked over to Melissa, who was making a mess while looking for any files.  
  
"Ah, Sis! Nothing's here! Let's get a move on!" I called and Melissa quickly abandoned her search. She decided to have a good exit and jumped out the window while shooting a web behind her. I shook my head and was about to follow, when the man grabbed my arm.  
  
"What is all this? Who are you?" he demanded, while I just stared at him.   
  
I then shot a webbing and answered, "Take a wild guess."  
  
Leaving him in confusion, I swung off and followed Melissa to search other places.  
  
  
  
  
It was nearing nine o'clock at night and we still didn't have any luck. We had gone to almost all the newspapers in the city (which was going to give us some major pubplicity) and none of them had any information on Electra. And I still didn't hear anything from her in my head, which I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or bad.  
  
"What do you think, John? Retire or keep searching?" Melissa asked as we swung side by side. I didn't look at her when I answered.  
  
"Keep searching."   
  
"Just as I was thinking."   
  
And so, we kept on searching, while the city entered night and then early morning. Soon it was near three in the morning and we were still searching. Searching but not finding anything.  
  
_Dammit, where could she be?_ I thought to myself as I began to picture all the things she could be doing to Mom. That's when I felt it. Something foreboading that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.  
  
"Mel! Hold on!" I called as I shot another web and swung toward the roof of a building. Melissa soon followed and landed just as I did.  
  
"What is it?" she asked, concerned.   
  
"Do you feel that?" I asked her, while she just shook her head. "I could have sworn..."  
  
I sighed as the feeling went away. Melissa cocked her head to the side and took one of my arms. "Are you sure we should keep looking? I don't know about you, but if I don't get caffine soon, I'm going to fall onto the streets."  
  
I shook my head and took my arm out of her grasp. "I'm going to keep looking. Electra's not going to get away with two murders..." I told her, trailing off at the end as I began to hear whispers.  
  
"John--"  
  
"Shh!" I hissed, motioning for her to be quiet. I wasn't imagining it (or at least, I think I wasn't), it was Electra's voice all right. She sounded even more giddy than ever. That got a scowl on my face quickly.  
  
**Come on, Parker, you can do better than this. How about a clue?** she said, mockingly.  
  
That's when Melissa took my arm again and broke my concentration. "Mel!" I shouted, upset that she had stopped me from getting the clue.  
  
"She's leading you into a trap, whatever she's saying, so don't you dare listen to her or I'll make sure to kick your ass from here all the way to Hong Kong, Spidey," she said with a glare I could feel rather than see.  
  
My shoulders slumped triedly, while I felt like rubbing my eyes. "You're right. I won't listen to her."   
  
Actually I was thinking I would try to not listen, but things never come out the way I mean to say them.  
  
Melissa nodded in approval. "Good. Now, we are going to go home and get some caffine and continue the search. We're going to need a lot of caffine if we're going to keep this up," she said.  
  
I nodded a bit and added, "And to handle all the news articles about the Spider-siblings."  
  
  
  
  
And that's what we did, though I accidently slept for a few hours. I think Melissa did too, but she didn't say anything. I woke up on the couch at eight in the morning, only to discover that I had only taken off the mask before sleeping.  
  
Groaning, I turned to the side, jumped, and fell off the couch when I saw something that I thought I would never see. A newspaper. With me and Melissa in our costumes. I grabbed the paper from the floor and proceeded to read it, while lying on the floor.  
  


_Spider-siblings search New York  
  
Just yesterday, two people, claiming to be siblings and dressed in Spider-man costumes, searched all afternoon and night for a mysterious woman that is described to be blonde with an insane laugh.  
  
"That's basically what the male one said to me," reports The Bugle's editor Lewis Jonae. "He wouldn't tell me why he was looking and who he was, but he did say the female one was his sister."  
  
The same is said by the editor of the Times, the Chronicle, and several other newspapers. Are these two web-spinners somehow linked with the old Spider-man that has been missing for the past three years? Or is this all just a hoax?  
  
If you have any information about the Spider-siblings or the mysterious woman they're searching for, please contac--_

  
  
I jumped when I felt someone sit on the couch. There was Melissa, still in her costume, except without the mask.   
  
"Found the newspaper I see," she commented, taking a sip of her coffee. I sat up and put the newspaper back on the coffee table before running a hand through my hair.  
  
"Well, they're quick about one thing. They're already associating us with Dad," I said to lighten the atmosphere, but it wasn't to be. Our first day of searching turned out to be even worse than we had thought it would be.  
  
"I wish I knew how Dad solved all those problems," she said, taking another sip of her coffee. I sighed and lied back on the ground. How, indeed...  
  
  
  
  
------------  
  
That's it! That's chapter three...it may be lame, but oh, well, at least John's in the suit. Don't worry, the fun is just starting and there will be some more surprises along the way.  
  
  
  
  



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